Date: Fri, 13 Jul 2007 00:20:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gene McEnnis
Subject: Infected Heartstrings - Chapter 9
*Disclaimer:* If you are not permitted to read stories of this nature
please refrain from reading further.
No part of this story may be sold or replicated without express permission
of the author.
************************************************************************
Chapter 9
Near the outer ring of Union City on Charleston Boulevard stood a
small building, more of a derelict shack really, affectionately called
'Clara's Box' by its regulars. Inside its dingy, plaster filled walls, the
military officers of the city and the small island base talked
boisterously, argued whole heartedly or just generally cried into their
drinks.
"Hey Clara," Hank's loud voice boomed over the bar's vocal
ambience, "Be a doll and send another two pitchers of whatever you got on
tap our way, won't yah luv?"
A sully haired woman behind the bar scowled daggers at the large
ape of a man. "You better be good for it this time, Hank." her voice was
deeper than most, the kind of voice that made you stand up and take notice
the first time you heard it on a woman.
"Aw Clara, don't be like that luv."
The woman glared at him for a moment before shrugging in defeat and
throwing the white cloth she had been handling over one mannishly large
shoulder. With her free hand, she traced a small loop on a floating relay
pad.
Hank sat back in his chair with a smile on his face as one of the
floating spheres of light detached from the rest and sailed down to the
centre of the table.
"Now as I was saying," Hank began as the sphere inflated before
popping in a shower of golden droplets, leaving a stack of glasses and two
tall glass pitchers filled with an ocean blue liquid.
"Hank?" Shaylene asked, leaning forward, "Finish your sentence or
pour the damn liquor but don't just sit there drooling on the table."
Hank grunted, grabbing at the stack of smudged glasses, "See what I
gots to deal with, Jones?" he asked, shaking his head and looking over at
Kylan expectantly.
Kylan just smiled as Hank passed the tall glasses around. The top
of each glass glistened with thousands of tiny bubbles, giving off a pearly
sheen in the muted lights like broken snow globes. As Hank poured the dark
liquid it sent up occasional tendrils of green vapour every few seconds as
if on cue.
"Anyhow," Hank said, putting his glass back down with a thud that
earned him another glare from Clara. "Like I was sayin'," he started
again, only quieter this time, "There we were, just Jones and me in the
middle of this graveyard on some small mud-ball of a planet when-"
"If I remember right, Steadman," Stacey O'Nassi said quietly from
her side of the table, "Weren't there over a dozen men on that particular
mission?" Her hands were folded primly and she looked down into her drink
as she spoke.
Hank pouted moodily. "Staaace," he whined, "you're ruining the
mood."
"Oh hey yeah," Shaylene said suddenly, snapping her fingers. Her
eyes flashed with realization, "Wasn't that the one with the crazy woman
monster thing?"
Hank's scowl threatened to darken the entire bar, "Who's tellin'
this garnfounded story anyhow?" he demanded, smashing his large paw down on
the table with a resounding thump.
He cringed as Clara nearly dropped a large glass. "How many times I
gotta warn you, Steadman?" she growled, whipping her bar towel with a quick
snap.
Hank's shoulders slumped, he looked remarkably like an overgrown
kid who'd just smashed a large, expensive vase. "Anyhow," he said,
clearing his throat, "Anyhow, there was this woman in the middle of the
graveyard see? Lookin' all helpless and wafer-like."
"Wafer-like?" Shayelene asked.
"I think he means 'waif-like'," Kylan said as he took a deep drink
of the dark blue liquid. As it hit his tongue the glistening liquid
changed states, vaporizing in his mouth and filling his lungs with
intoxicating vapours that quickly slid up into his cranium with strong,
sensuous fingers.
"Whatever," Hank crossed his arms and sank deeper into his chair,
"Who's telling this story again?"
Stacey patted the large man on the shoulder, the scene looked
comically to Kylan like a small slipperbug trying to comfort a brooding
rhinoceros in a blue funk. "Don't worry about it Hank," she said quietly.
"How does Sharon talk to him anyhow?" Shaylene asked leaning across
the table towards Stacey.
"Slowly," Stacey said quietly, blushing a deep shade of pink.
"... And with small words," Shaylene said as the whole table
erupted in a fit of laughter.
"Hmph," Hank grunted, turning to Kylan and saying quietly, "Broads,
hey?"
Kylan just smiled, "I really wouldn't know," he replied.
Hank scowled at the two women. "If yer about done, Can I finish the
damned story now?"
Shaylene and Stacey nodded, both trying in vane to stop sniggering.
"Now," Hank continued, "There we were -"
Kylan wasn't listening, his eyes were focused on a slender young
man who had just entered the bar on the far side, dark hair obscuring his
features for a briefly. Even wounded, the man walked with a slow,
calculated, almost feline grace.
"Then she went all freaky and floated up before all sorts of metal
things shot out from her and into the graves. Wasn't much left of her and
-" Hank was saying but Kylan had already tuned out the noise as his heart
beat a little faster.
The young man turned and faced the bar, his weary eyes slowly
drinking it all in, his eyes dark with quiet determination. Kylan's body
relaxed as he sighed deeply. He silently chided himself for being so
gullible - even after all this time.
"The damn things were all corpsy and freaky. We were surrounded
and -" Hank's words faded into the background as Kylan got up and slowly
walked towards the bar, towards Wade.
"Jones?" Hank asked as the other man stepped past. Shrugging, he
carried on talking. "Anyway, there we was when -"
************************************************************************
Wade sat alone at the far side of the bar regarding the amber,
sparkling drink in front of him with distain as if it alone was responsible
for his problems. His whole body ached and complained even while sitting.
"How was the tour?" a deep voice asked as someone settled slowly
into the seat beside him. Wade just looked down at his drink. His suit
was covered in dust and torn in a few places.
Kylan's eyes widened as he saw the scrapes and bruises that now
decorated the exposed portions of Wade's tired body. "What the hell
happened to you?" he asked again. Wade shifted slightly, taking a deep
drink of the cool liquid. "Did you get jumped by rabid space-hyenas?
Cause I hear they're all over the place lately."
Wade smiled through the grime that still lined his face.
"Let me guess," Kylan continued. "By feeding Chuck to the snarling
beasts you managed to escape or something?"
Wade let his breath out all at once, "I had a fight with gravity,"
he laughed, wincing and clutching his ribs as he did so. "Suffice to say
that I didn't win."
Kylan quietly ordered himself another drink, before turning to look
curiously at Wade. "What?" he finally asked.
Wade laughed and shook his head, "Let's just say it involved
hanging from a clothes line about a mile up in the air trying to explain to
a frumpy broad that I wasn't a freaky perve, right before she whacked me
with some sort of broom thing."
"Right," Kylan nodded solemnly, "Rabid space-hyenas. Just like I
thought."
"The hell it was! That funky broom-like thing of hers bloody well
hurt." Wade rubbed his tender shoulder slowly, "You're an ass, Jones. You
know that?" he smirked.
"And you love me for it."
Wade suddenly sat bolt upright, staring at Kylan for a second,
"What'd you say?"
"Hmm? "I didn't," Kylan replied, "I was too busy trying to picture
you dangling from your finger nails while an old friend of mine who fits
that description perfectly wailed on you with her broom."
"Oh."
"What'd you think I said?"
"Nothing," Wade said, quietly. "Hey, who'd you picture smacking me
around with a broom anyway?"
"Her name was Selmar, Selly for short. She's a real battleaxe. A
very wise old woman but still a battleaxe from hell."
"Were you related?"
"Nah, I just worked for her for a while."
"Sounds like she must have made one hell of an impression on you,"
Wade smiled. "What did you do, run away with her daughters or something?"
Kylan paused for a few moments before changing the subject. "Umm,
what did you order? It looks kind of like an overdressed beer in a half
melted bottle."
"Let me guess, she caught you with her pet space-hyena?" Wade
smiled, not falling for the distraction.
Closing his eyes, a briefly troubled expression crossed Kylan's
face before disappearing again. "No, no. Nothing like that," he replied
quietly.
"Hey... I'm sorry," Wade said, looking back at his drink "Look
I... I didn't mean to -"
"Don't worry about it," Kylan gently rested his hand on Wade's back
for a moment. "It's just not something I want to think about right now.
Now," he said, smile firmly back on his face, "What the heck did you
order?"
"I'm not sure, just ordered what the guy beside me had."
The two men laughed softly but something still nagged at the back
of Wade's mind. Even after he first walked into the room, something struck
him as being a little... strained. That something was bothering him even
now.
Wade's gaze slowly worked across the room. The eyes of soldiers
and other personnel quickly looked away as his gaze travelled the length of
the bar. Their eyes were searching and inquisitive, yet they all quickly
turned away. "I don't really belong here," he said quietly, almost to
himself.
Kylan looked over to the other man "You just need to settle in," he
said, taking a hit from his drink. "I mean, you killed most of them in
training this morning without much effort. You just need to give 'em time;
they're not a bad bunch."
"That's not what I mean," Wade looked deep into the amber liquid of
his drink again. "I don't belong on this planet."
"We're all imports here, Chartrand," Kylan's eyes surveyed the bar,
to the tables where the men and women were talking and chatting. "At least
the good ones are," he winked.
Wade tried his best not to blush, "You're not homegrown I take it?"
Kylan's expression grew distant as he looked at the floating
spheres of light that moved around the bar.
Wade blinked quickly, "I... I'm sorry. I'm prying again aren't I?"
"I'm more freerange," Kylan smiled, "But there's a little planet I
used to call home, about a days hyber flight from here." Wade could almost
see the wheat fields swaying lazily behind the taller man's eyes.
Kylan closed his eyes and once again mentally closed that chapter
of his life, storing it away in the dark recesses of his mind. "I think
it's my turn to pry," he said. "What's the story about that ring you keep
turning anyway?"
Wade stopped and looked down at the silver band on his left hand
that he held. After a long time he finally said, "It really doesn't matter
anymore."
Concern played across Kylan's strong features, "Now it's my turn to
apologize."
"Don't, it was a long time ago."
Overhead the floating spheres of light continued to float by as if
caught in some invisible current. Both men stared into their dwindling
drinks and tried to forget their past. After a couple of minutes of
silence, Kylan finally spoke. "You know Wade, I've been meaning to talk to
you for a while now. It's just that we never seem to get the time."
Wade's pulse started to quicken. Just before he took another
drink, his sharp eyes noticed one sphere floating amongst the mass move a
little differently.
"There's always been something stopping us, you know? I'm either
always away or you're always training," Kylan continued, unaware that
Wade's attention was now elsewhere.
The sphere separated out from the rest and floated over to the
table where Hank was waving around his massive arms as he tried to
entertain a very bored looking Shaylene and a blushing Stacey.
Kylan looked up, "I...I just wanted to ask you..." he stopped. "Oh
shit," he breathed, noticing the sphere for the first time. "Something's
up."
Abandoning their drinks on the bar, Wade and Kylan walked
cautiously over to the table. As they walked, Wade couldn't help both
resenting and appreciating that damned sphere at the same time. Quickly
the din died out across the bar as soldiers and service men and women
watched the ball of light that was now pulsing a faint, angry red colour.
"There we was with nothing more than a plasma round between the two
of us," Hank was still talking and gesturing wildly. Everyone stopped,
even Hank, and looked over as the two men reached the table.
"Wade," Shaylene smiled, "Pull up a chair. Hank was just telling
us something about a cod-piece, a grenade and something-or-other."
"Don't you listen, woman?" Hank glared at her.
"Say, where's Chuck?" Shaylene asked looking at Wade expectantly,
clearly ignoring Hank.
"You look like hell there, pup," Hank gawked at Wade. "Who got the
jump on yah?"
Wade didn't reply, instead he pointed slowly up to the floating
sphere.
"Oh shit," Stacey squeaked looking up. Everyone turned to watch
the normally quiet, petite woman blush a deep shade of scarlet.
Kylan calmly reached over to the centre of the table and touched
the central ring that was slightly depressed into the solid top, twisting
it to the left. The depression came to life, beaming light at the floating
sphere.
The sphere itself collected all of the light, quickly swelling into
a large, ominous, angry red globe. Slowly the sphere of light receded back
into itself, leaving the clear features of an older man's gruff face. The
image shuddered for a moment before the man spoke. "Jones, O'Nassi,
Steadman and Chartrand you are to return to base immediately," he said with
a slightly metallic voice.
"Where's the fire, Ford?" Hank asked, reclining back in his chair.
Ford's red face glowered at the large man, "That's Officer Ford,
Steadman," he said. His face looked flustered but Ford kept talking. "A
few hours ago we picked up a powerful distress call coming from a nearby
planet. It's not clear from our scouts how long the infection has been on
the planet but one thing is clear, we need to move quickly."
"So it's a repeat of our last mission then?" Hank asked.
"No, Steadman," the head shook from side to side before
continuing. "We're sending in four units for this one."
"Four units?" Kylan spoke up. "Sir, with all due respect to your
decision, with a force that large we'll have an all out fight on our hands.
We could take a smaller salvage crew and -"
"No, Jones," Ford cut in. "We need the greater numbers to draw
them off so we have a hope of getting to the large pockets of survivors.
We haven't had to do a rescue of this magnitude in a long time. We can't
afford any mistakes." Ford looked around the table once more before
continuing. "You four are to catch the next available transport back to
base and prepare yourselves immediately. The ships leave within two
hours."
The ring in the table started to spin as the image of Ford's head
continued, glancing down at something as he spoke, "I'm sending a small
briefing with some of the relevant information that we have up to this
point."
Ford's face surveyed all present before he spoke again, "Be sure to
review the information carefully. End transmission." As his final words
hung in the air, the red image sputtered before shrinking back into a small
red sphere again. It changed colours and quickly rejoined the others high
above.
A thin, portable readout panel detached itself from the ring in the
table and floated an inch or two in the air. The panel blinked slowly as
if expecting to be picked up. Kylan reached forward, grasping the circular
readout firmly. Calmly he began to piece through the information.
"There's so much to prepare," Stacey almost whispered to Shaylene
as they both started to gather their effects.
"All of you be careful out there, ok?" Shaylene looked around the
group.
Stacey nodded quickly as they turn and left the bar, leaving their
unfinished drinks behind.
"Well, looks like you're a full member now, pup," Hank said
slapping Wade hard on the back as he passed, winking. "Congratulations on
passing those aptitude tests so damn fast. I betcha never knew you'd
finished?"
Wade smiled and looked over to Jones as they gathered up their
belongings and began to leave the bar. "Where is this planet anyway?" he
asked, the others were already outside and waiting.
Kylan looked slowly over to Wade, his face dark. Both men stopped,
for a moment he just stared at Wade, his expression unreadable. "Looks
like you'll get to see some of my past real soon," he said finally.
Wade faltered, "I don't follow?"
"It's home, Wade," Kylan looked back to the centre of the table,
his empty hand was clenched into a tight fist. "The distress call is
coming from my home world."
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Author's Note:
Hmm I wonder why Kylan doesn't want to remember his past? I have a feeling
we'll be getting a taste of it real soon.
Wow! Too many "balls" in the last two chapters haha! I swear I'll take a
break in the chapters to come ;). I love puns at times but for your sakes
I keep myself in check.
Kane, thank you again for all of your help!
Regards,
-Gene
Almost forgot. Disgruntled? Angry about a character or a scene? Or just
generally enjoying the story and feel the bizarre need to tell me about it?
corporeal09@yahoo.com